


The Superiority of Eartha Kitt to Julie Newmar as Catwoman

by RembrandtsWife



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gen, Santa Baby, The Haus, building a snowman, catwoman - Freeform, eartha kitt - Freeform, julie newmar, michelle Pfeifer -Freeform, shitty's discourse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8862772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/RembrandtsWife
Summary: Eyes of coal, a carrot nose, sticks for arms, and a hat are canonical.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic follows directly upon ["Homosexual Coding in Children's Christmas Programming of the 1970s".](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8847919)

Bitty had already baked cookies yesterday and put together homemade egg nog and mulled wine between classes. Jack had apparently not been sure whether he was more surprised that Bitty owned a slow cooker (great for mulling wine) or that egg nog was something you could make in your own kitchen. Bitty didn't have the heart to tell Jack he'd only brought *one* slow cooker to college of the half-dozen in the pantry at home. (And he still missed the mini-crock, which would be great for overnight oatmeal, maybe Mother could ship it to him....)

When he and Lardo went back outside, carrying bits of clothing, jewelry, and props scavenged from all over the house, the frogs had joined the festivities. Chowder and his girlfriend, Farmer, were goggling at the snow over steaming cups almost as much as Bitty had in his freshman year, while Dex and Nursey sniped at one another over the two-thirds completed snow body. Holster and Ransom had taken a break and were watching Shitty methodically shovel probably unnecessary amounts of snow into a heap, while Jack was standing with hands on hips, supervising everything with a Team Captain face. 

"You haven't finished building it yet? Come on, we've all the stuff for its costume."

Shitty straightened up and leaned on his shovel. "Canonically, snowmen should have coal for eyes, a carrot for a nose, sticks for arms, and some kind of hat. Maybe a scarf, but the scarf might be apocryphal."

"Your ass is apocryphal," Dex muttered from behind Bitty, while Lardo replied, "In the words of a thousand fanfic writers, Fuck Canon."

Jack stepped up and, using his bare hands, produced a nicely symmetrical head for the snow man or person in about two minutes. Bitty stared at Jack's hands, which didn't even look red. How did he do that?

"How do you not feel the cold?" 

Jack shrugged, smiling. "Dunno, just used to it. Looking forward to some hot chocolate, though." He reached out and pulled Bitty's hat down over his eyes, then wandered away.

The finished snow person wore several strings of Mardi Gras beads, a bra that probably wasn't Lardo's, battered knee pads and groin cup, and a deerstalker hat no one would admit to owning. It held a cracked hockey stick in lieu of any arms.

"Y'all come in now and have some goodies and a hot drink," Bitty commanded, and was obeyed. The Haus kitchen was soon full of cold, damp hockey players guzzling mildly alcoholic beverages accompanied by Bitty's cookies. Jack leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded, while Bitty whipped up some hot cocoa with whipped cream and sprinkles for his team captain.

Once Jack was sipping from the big red mug of cocoa cradled between his miraculously not frozen hands, Bitty docked his phone and cued up a holiday playlist. A general hush fell as the cool, husky voice of Eartha Kitt addressed St. Nick.

"Best. Catwoman. Ever," Ransom said when the song ended. Holster fistbumped him and added, "Amen."

"But Michelle Pfeiffer--" Chowder ventured.

"Don't even mention--" Shitty exclaimed.

"Dude, chill. I kinda liked Julie Newmar, actu--"

"Are you fucking kidding me, bro? Newmar? When Eartha Kitt was not only sex on legs but woke as f--"

"Chill, Shits, it's just, like, a personal preference--"

"Oh, there's preferences and then there's *stupidity*!"

"Shitty! Brah. You're being a grade-A dick again, shut up."

Dex set down his mug of mulled wine with a thud. "I dunno about you happy assholes, but I still got studying to do. Later, bros." Everyone stared as he left, except for Nursey, who trailed after him.

Chowder looked at Farmer, who had a mouthful of nog and cookie. Bitty looked at Jack. 

"No place like Haus for the holidays," Jack said. He had a dab of whipped cream on the tip of his nose.


End file.
